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Chapter Five: Monastery
As Orwen approached the monastery, he looked behind him to make certain no one had followed him. He had left his horse behind, and did not want to have to make a run for it if there seemed to be any danger. He was not a swift runner and dodging a mounted solider or an arrow were not among the adventurous pursuits of his dreams. The line of trees was clear as far as he could see. Running, after all, was probably not a bad idea. So he took off, holding the edges of his cloak close to his body so it wouldn't whip around him too much in the wind. The monastery was quiet. Most of the monks either spent time in their gardens during the week or were out in neighboring towns sharing their provisions and words of wisdom with the common people. The monastery was often half-empty when Orwen had visited his brother there before. And though Jansen was supposed to be at religious studies, he himself was not preparing to take holy orders, and the two boys often rode out together and got into a fair share of mischief. But today Orwen approached with a heavy heart, knowing that he had little pleasure to look forward to in this visit. How would he convince the bishop that his well-respected Uncle, who gave lavish gifts to the church and often visited for confession, had attempted to murder him? And if the bishop didn't believe him, what would happen to he and Jansen? Pushing these thoughts aside, Orwen strode under the simple wooden frame of the monastery gate and walked between the monk's dormitories and gardens toward the central, large building: the bishop's house. Jansen lived with the bishop and studied under him, which often consisted of reading and copying from dry texts and memorizing Latin. But Jansen said that he was going to be one of the most highly educated noblemen from the Ghertinson family line, whether he liked it or not. Once Orwen was standing at the threshold of the bishop's imposing front door, poised to knock, he suddenly felt that perhaps he shouldn't tell the bishop at all. There was much more going on of late than he knew or understood. Orwen let the knocker fall. A slight boy of eleven opened the door. He was rumored to be the bishop's son, and served in the house as a hired serf, but was often given rather special privilege. Orwen pushed past the boy, who didn't object; the bishop's servants were well used to he and Jansen's comings and goings. The first floor of the bishop's house was a few of the servant's rooms, kitchen, and a long spacious dining hall. And the second floor was where Orwen knew he would find his brother, either still in bed or deep in his books in the library. He leapt up the stairs two at a time, by habit. The more time he spent in the familiar and warm surrounding of the bishop's home, the more the past few hours melted into a memory. He relaxed for the first time that day, and strode into the library with his usual easy confidence. "Why, Master Ghertinson! What an unexpected surprise." Bishop Avery said airily. His thick face spread into a genuine smile and he rose from the table where he and Jansen were seated to extend an arm of welcome to his young guest. Bishop Avery was the master of patience, and the boys' rovings never perturbed him in the slightest. "Good morning." Orwen greeted the bishop. Then he moved past him to the table where Jansen sat and whispered in his brother's ear. "I wish to speak to you alone." "Now, Orrie?" "Yes, it is an urgent matter. Let's go to your room." "Excuse us, Bishop Avery." Jansen said, rising from his place. He was not an enthusiastic student, but he knew that if he spent the day running about with Orwen the bishop would be waiting when he returned home and not allow him food or rest until he had done his morning's worth of studies. In this way Bishop Avery had made Jansen into a rather good student, in spite of his reluctants. Jansen would rather get his studies out of the way in the early part of the day than allow Orwen to distract him. "What is so important to drag you out of your cushy bed at this oh-so-godly hour?" Jansen laughed, pulling his bedroom door closed after them. His bedroom was small and simply furnished compared to Orwen's large, ornate apartment in the top of the castle tower. Orwen sighed. "There is no easy way to tell you this, brother." He paced the room. "Uncle tried to murder me." Jansen sat staring, not really taking it in. "I woke up one morning to a mysterious 'gift' from him, sent up in the hands of Vin, who we both know has been groveling at our uncle's feet, hoping for an inheritance, since we both were children. Ever since then, he has been after my head. I just barely escaped here to warn you." "But why would he wish to kill you...or either of us, for that matter?" Jansen choked. "I honestly have no idea. Our inhertancee is a paltry flea in size and worth compared to what he already holds. And we have no real political connections, to my knowledge. He has little to gain from our deaths. And though he was estranged from our father, I doubt that there was any motive of revenge behind it, or we would both be dead long ago!" "But Orwen, what does this mean?" "I can hardly think for the shock I have been through. But I do not trust anyone here. Even good Bishop Avery may not be able to understand our plight and may only inadvertantly put us back into our Uncle's power. I think we must flee. But to whom, I do not know." "Do you think we ought to leave without telling anyone?" Jansen said, aghast. "I'm afraid to err on the trusting side might be the end of us." "Then I will do as you say. At least," Jansen allowed a weak smile, "I will if you will not be compel me to bring any dry books with me." "You are free in that respect!" Orwen also grinned. "But gather some things together for you and I both, quickly. I did not have much time to provision myself. And I have no idea how long we may have to journey on foot before we find a safe haven." The brothers moved quickly, placing garments, extra shoes, and a few candles and knives into a pair of satchels. They snuck quietly downstairs to the kitchen and raided the provisions swiftly before the serving girl might arrive to begin preparing the mid-day meal. Once they had left the house through the back door they knew there was little chance of them being seen by anyone. And they left the monastery compound together, disappearing between wheat fields to the south. As they went, they decided they would head for Yackley; it was the biggest town nearby, which would afford them a crowd to hide in until they could discover a real plan for their survival. Chapter Six: Yackley